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Power is intoxicating. Everyone loves having the ability to make their decisions into reality — to think "this should be something that happens," and then actually be able to make that thing happen.

It is also dangerous.

And it is especially dangerous when applied to four-year-olds.

Four-year-olds lack the experience to wield power responsibly. They have no idea what to do with it or how to control it.

But they like it.

The dinosaur costume was the greatest thing that had ever happened to me. The previous Halloween, which was the first Halloween I could actually remember, my parents had dressed me as a giant crayon, and the whole experience had been really uncomfortable for me.

But being a dinosaur felt natural.

And powerful.

The feeling had been slowly intensifying ever since I put the costume on that morning, and, as I stood there in the middle of the classroom, staring off into the distance in an unresponsive power trance, it finally hit critical mass.

I had to find some way to use it. Any way. Immediately.

The other children screamed and fled. The teacher chased me, yelling at me to stop. But I couldn't stop. I was a mindless juggernaut, a puppet for forces far greater than myself. I had completely lost control of my body.

All I knew was that being a dinosaur felt very different from being a person, and I was doing things that I had never even dreamed of doing before.

Of course, I had always had the ability to do these things — even as a person — but I didn't know that. I'd just assumed that I was unable. As a dinosaur, I didn't have any of those assumptions. It felt like I could do whatever I wanted without fear of repercussions.

The repercussions were also exactly the same as they were before I became a dinosaur.

I just experienced them differently.

My parents had to come pick me up at noon that day. The teacher explained that it must have been all the Halloween candy. "Some kids really can't handle sugar," she said. "It turns them into little monsters."

I suppose it was a reasonable enough conclusion, but it only served as a distraction from the real problem.

The thing about being an unstoppable force is that you can really only enjoy the experience of being one when you have something to bash yourself against. You need to have things trying to stop you so that you can get a better sense of how fast you are going as you smash through them. And whenever I was inside the dinosaur costume, that is the only thing I wanted to do.

The ban on sugar provided a convenient source of resistance. As long as I was not supposed to eat sugar, I could feel powerful by eating it anyway.

I'm sure the correlation started to seem rather strong after a while. I'd find some way to get sugar into myself, and then — drunk on the power of doing something I wasn't supposed to —I would lapse into psychotic monster mode. To any reasonable observer, it would appear as though I was indeed having a reaction to the sugar.

My parents were so confused when the terror sprees continued even after the house had been stripped of sugar. They were sure they had gotten rid of all of it. . . did I have a stash somewhere? Was I eating bugs or something?

They still weren't suspicious of the costume.

I lost weeks in a power-fueled haze. I often found myself inside the costume without even realizing I had put it on. One moment, I would be calmly drawing a picture, and the next I'd be robotically stumbling toward my closet where the dinosaur costume was and putting myself inside it.

It started to happen almost against my will.

Surely my parents made the connection subconsciously long before they became aware of what was really going on. After weeks of chaos, each instance punctuated by the presence of the costume, I have to imagine that the very sight of the thing would have triggered some sort of Pavlovian fear response.

They did figure it out eventually, though.

And the costume was finally taken away from me.

I was infuriated at the injustice of it all. I had become quite dependent on the costume, and it felt like part of my humanity was being forcibly and maliciously stripped away. I cursed my piddling human powers and their uselessness in the situation. If only I could put on the costume . . . just one more time.

But that was the costume's only weakness — it couldn't save itself. I had to watch helplessly as it disappeared inside a trash bag.

There was nothing I could do.

And so my reign of power came to an end, and I slowly learned to live as a person again.

I love this post and I'm really glad that you're back. I'm so ready for your book to come out this month! I've always been addicted to sugar and, well, I thought I was invincible when on the powder as well. ;) My parents made me stop eating sugar when I was young and then I became addicted and even now, I feel it creeping up on me. I want to be a baker, this makes so much sense to me now. Ahhh.... you solved the mystery as why I want to bake!

LOVING this!! So glad you are back! I was able to do stuff without a costume...but that just convinced my parents that I was "extremely busy". I prefer the term super creative...in a slightly chaotic way :)

My husband had a crocodile costume that did that to him. His mom made it for the Peter Pan themed Halloween with his siblings. She even sewed a watch into the chest. He cried the entire night because he wanted to be cookie monster, but slowly the power of being an adorable crocodile sunk in, and he became unstoppable.

I dub this the "Where the Wild Things Are" Effect. And let me note, I always fantasized about an awesome Halloween costume that would have an effect like this, but I always ended up a plush kitty or puppy dog. :/

The costume was your Incredible Hulk, your Mr. Hyde, your evil twin. The thing they all have in common is that they are you, just the side that you always suppress. The monster lives within you, even today.

Hey! I just wanted to share with you that I have had deep depression for decades, but finally found a cure. I take 1-2 teaspoons of the spice Turmeric (mixed in something like V-8, or sprinkled on something) every day-- and in one week it did more for me than 5 years of Zoloft and Abilify. I am no longer 'maintaining'-- I am cured! I just wanted to share it with you. Here's an article link:http://www.naturalnews.com/041625_turmeric_anti-depressants_depression_treatment.html . You can buy it in any grocery store in the spice section, but I buy it here: http://www.myspicesage.com/?main_page=search&query=turmeric . Here's to happy health! love ya, Jim Evans, tenofclubs@msn.com

This makes me wish I were still teaching sociology classes. I could have students read it and list the social psych concepts it illustrates as extra credit. It could even be a nice in-class diversion provided that enough people had laptops and phones to share. (Would they? I don't know how college works anymore.)

OMGOMG. I made my son a dinosaur costume (and his sister a unicorn) - but they both fought over that costume and wore it until I had to cut the feet off because they had grown too tall and then when the torso became too short they finally gave it up. Clearly I'm a slow learner about what kind of chaos/power comes with that thing.

This might explain why I want one of those fantastic Velociraptor costume/puppet things so badly. The idea of hiding around corners to roar and scare people when they happen upon me is so enticing. http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=C4cS-eEhuVM

You were staying in character which makes total sense to me. But there is a kind of power to stay in character like that. Tempting me even in my 40s.

My boy had the same experience with a spiderman/venom reversible costume. He even wore it to school and when we were questioned about it by the teacher, we said "so what?" But we could see when he was really mad, because he would turn it inside out to be Venom when he was really pissed.

Ah, this is so familiar. I can't even tell you how many times my parents caught me barking and nipping at people's heels in the grocery store before they figured out that I shouldn't be allowed to watch "Lady and the Tramp" anymore.

Yup, I was a black cat for Halloween one year as a child. I slunk around like a ninja and scratched at people for months. Then my ears and tail got taken away. I am still convinced that I am part feline.

Several thoughts going through my head right now. One is that I was a complete costume junkie as a child and, now that I see someone else put it into words/drawings, I definitely remember feeling safer as a cat/tiger/rabbit/etc. than as a kid. Not physically safer--I was never in any physical danger--but . . . more at home. Later, as I moved up grades in school, my learning disabilities became more problematic and I started having academic problems, and was bullied by the other kids (and one of my teachers. My parents moved me to a different school).

I grew up to be one of those women who likes to make her own clothes from vintage patterns. That's not a costume in the Hallowe'en sense but it still sort of is a costume. I think the power is getting some attention, but not too much attention, because people are interested in my dress but not actually looking at me. So it's attention but it's also a little bit of a barrier. Which is not to say there isn't anything to me but clothes, but since I've never been good with people, it gives them something to talk to me about that doesn't put to much pressure on me.

Thank you for this! As I am enjoying this post my almost 3 yr old is ripping the house apart...wearing his favorite superman top complete with cape. Now I have something new to threaten to take away from him! Thank you!

Thanks for sharing this memory with us. It's interesting watching my own kids grow up, and how their personality traits as small children stick around as older ones. A few have disappeared, but many have grown stronger.

As I deal with my own anxiety, and my fiance deals with his myriad issues, we're on the lookout for anything going on with the kids. We are also trying to raise awareness and reduce the stigma of mental illness with our new blog, The Face of Mental Illness. We encourage people to speak about their experiences and share their Face of Mental Illness.

I had impulse issues as a kid, too. One time, I put on my Christmas dress and ate like 100 hershey kisses while my mom was on the phone. Thought I was sneaky hiding the wrappers in an empty kitchen drawer, but she totally caught me. That ended the "leave candy around for Christmas" for a few years at our house. Nice to see you back :)

I'm sure someone else has also mentioned this, but reading this, I can't help but be reminded of Calvin and Hobbes. And I loved it. Of course, Calvin was almost innately destructive; your capability for chaos was awakened by an outside force. The panel with Velociraptor-Allie in the corner was perhaps my favorite. Overall, hilarious. Absolutely loved it.

OH MY GOD. This was just... just... beautiful.It made my entire week and I think I may have actually hurt myself laughing.Allie, you are such an incredibly wonderful and talented human being. Thank you for existing. And welcome back :)

When I was a little kid, I wanted to grow up to be a dinosaur. Instead I became a barista. My only chaotic power rests in the ability to put whole milk in a mean customer's non-fat latte. That's as much anarchy as I can muster.

So many articles of clothing or items of a certain style still provide a certain mindset to me as an adult. How I feel in my head and how people perceive me, still playing "dress up" all these years later.

Hi. I just wanted to tell you how awesome you are. I found your site, I don't know, four months ago or so. After the first comic, I went on a tear, reading your entire site within a few days. I still think of the panel where the kids are looking up at the babysitter and say, all in unison, "One!" Just hysterical.

Thank you for contributing to society in the way that you do. You're comics range from silly to hilarious to informative to earth-shatteringly sad. To create art, in whatever medium, that can so easily cause you flow in and out of such a wide range of emotions, it's a pretty incredible gift.

Thank you for using it. Thanks for playing. And it's good to see you back.

My mother made me a cat costume once when I was about the same age, but as all I wanted was to be a ballerina I was much less power crazed... My own 4yr old will never be allowed to be a dinosaur now though, she would go completely power mad with it! Thanks for the heads up ;)